


Uptake

by unlockthelore



Series: Magia [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Introspection, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlockthelore/pseuds/unlockthelore
Summary: Ezra had to admit that he was a little late in seeing what Holly did, but he felt it.
Relationships: Ezra & Holly (Magia)
Series: Magia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945423
Kudos: 3





	Uptake

**Uptake**

The afternoon stretched into the early evening as Ezra wiped down the bar stools and countertops, humming to gentle buzzing sunlight slanting through the cafe’s windows. Beyond its doors were quiet murmurings from passerbys with only a few deigning to approach the cafe’s doors before deciding to go elsewhere.

It mattered little to him.

He appreciated the lull of a quiet afternoon where he had aught else to fill his mind but the rhythm of maintenance — wipe down this, adjust that, sweep here, and wash there. Almost halfway through the stack of dishes from his live-in students’ early supper, one of the doors was pushed ajar and a bell rang through the quiet lobby.

Ezra glanced up at the sound of a thud, grabbing a dish towel to dry his hands as he stepped from behind the kitchenette's wall. A blur shot across the wooden floors and disappeared up the staircase, with only a few thudding footsteps and a brief glimpse of bouncy sable black curls to tell of who it was. He smiled to himself at the scent of salt and ozone; static crackling dully in the atmosphere as he walked around the bar.

She must have gotten into another thaumaturgy lesson - the students <i>were</i> learning thunder magic now, weren't they?

Ezra chuckled as he walked to the door, the tip of his shoes bumping against something small. Glancing down, his brow furrowed at a pair of small grey sneakers. A soft sigh parted his lips and he glanced toward the stairs, hearing the small racing footsteps climbing their creaky length.

It crossed his mind to let her be _but_ with so many coming and going through the doors, he’d rather she kept her things in one place. If anything for the sanctity of time when they had to leave in a rush.

“Holly!” Ezra called out, tucking the dish towel in the strings of his apron. “Your shoes!”

The footsteps paused and he heard a loud thud, wincing at the thought of her hurting herself. A beat of silence followed and Ezra considered going to see what it was keeping her when a young voice cried — “Sorry, Papa!” — and she came rushing down the stairs, huffing and puffing.

He nodded approvingly, his body slowly stiffening as he turned around to return to the other side of the bar. “Set them in th—”

His mind ground to a stuttering halt and for as second, his knees felt strange. He braced himself with a hand pressed firmly to the counter top, his palm sliding across its wet surface to where he gripped its edge firmly to anchor himself. Quietly he murmured, “Papa?”, and turned the word around in his mind.

He knew how it appeared to others. Holly lived in his home, and he made sure she was fed and clothed, watched after her when she flounced around the school grounds in search of researchers to question or fellow students to entertain herself with. He was there to greet her when she returned home after a long day of adventuring. Listening dutifully to her stories and allowing her to drag him to the site of her latest discoveries before she’d grown tired, and he carried her home.

If she was in a spot of trouble then he was the one she turned to, most of the time. If there were complaints to be had - he was who they were voiced to.

Ezra conceded that he certainly _played_ the role of a parent, but whether or not he was one wasn’t up to him.

“— Papa!”

Captivated by his thoughts, Ezra barely heard the shrill cry for his attention. He rubbed the back of his left wrist against his eyes. It was silly to think he was _dreaming_ of all things. He’d never done that before and certainly wasn’t going to start now - but he wanted to be sure he was _seeing_ correctly.

When his hand fell away, Holly was there and pouting up at him with her shoes gathered in her arms. Her eyes, wide and rounded in their concern, were a deep brown and sparkled in the sunlight reminiscent of the crystal shard she’d brought Ezra a fortnight ago. They gazed in wonder and curiosity as Ezra muttered a feeble, “I’m sorry,” and scratched at his temples absentmindedly. He cast a wary glance at the register tucked in the back counter’s crevasse.

Its cursor hadn’t moved in what felt like centuries, not for her, and he’d almost worried it’d begin once more.

Ezra was acutely aware of Holly’s presence, and knew she was growing agitated with his lengthy silence. He had to be certain before he decided to do anything - and even then - he was at a loss for what he _should_ do. Out of everything he’d been asked of in the eons he’d been alive, to be someone’s father was not one of them.

Upon gathering his courage, Ezra turned back to Holly. “Were you speaking to me,” he muttered, eyes squinted as he braced himself for a rejection or an explanation, hoping his expression didn't betray him too much.

Holly pressed her lips together in a firm line, twitched downward at the corners into an impressive scowl. “ _Papa_ ,” she began, her voice thinned out to an almost pitched whine. “ _Where_ do I put my _shoes_?”

Ezra sighed fondly. His heart, or at least the bundle of emotions which made up its equivalent, sent waves of warmth rippling from his chest outward. Never had he been more happy to be given a non-answer, or at least an answer in the most succinct way possible. The urge to kneel down and gather her up in his arms to bestow the tightest hug imaginable were set aside when he saw her squirming and stamping her foot lightly.

“In the shoe rack in the hall,” Ezra told her, nodding toward the curved double-wide doors and the hall beyond them. “You know the one.”

“Got it!” chirped Holly, her irritation immediately shifting to joy to his surprise and she hurried off to the doors.

Fondness couldn’t surmise what Ezra felt as he watched her bumble with trying to shift her shoes to one arm and open the door with the other, at the same time. A slight smile quirked the corner of his lips. His daughter was quite a character.

His _daughter_.

She would have been the first and likely the only. So many children had come and gone from his care over the years, their lives cut short by the cruel hands of fate, and all he could give was a moment’s reprieve before sending theme on. He’d been ready to let her go then, let her see the hills and vales teeming with flowers sprouted from a rippling sea of green, and be happy for all of eternity. Stiffly, Ezra walked forward and laid his hand against the door’s handle, gently easing Holly backward as he opened it.

She flashed him a smile, the warmth of it emanated so close to his heart that he almost felt it cracking. Ezra sighed as she ran past. Broken hearts were easily fixed. Knowledge of Holly’s eternal happiness would have kept him for the next century - or at least until the next child came, a casualty of misguidance and another wound on his heart.

A few years ago, he would have watched her walk out of those doors and waved her goodbye. Assured himself that he’d done all he could. _She would be fine,_ Ezra thought. _Life was cruel to her but she would find happiness elsewhere._ Warmth encircled his waist with a squeeze - a gentle vice coaxed him into reality and he glanced down.

Sunlight illuminated and detailed every inch of her being, from the hairs on her head to the smudges of dirt on her cheeks. Her hair was thick, cloud like, and it reminded Ezra so much of his own with how maintained it needed to be — the pair of them conducting a nightly routine to tie up their hair before turning in for the night. Despite how heavy it might’ve seemed, Ezra often saw Holly bouncing around as if she were lighter than air. It reminded him of a raven’s wings, glossy black with the faintest hint of a lighter brown.

Her lips were pulled into a wide grin, rounding plump cheeks and squinting her eyes. “Need help with anything, Papa?”

A smile hovered on Ezra’s lips and he sighed. “.. Actually, yes,” he laughed lightly and patted down her curls, though they sprung up defiantly against his hand. “It’s been a while since you’ve given me a hug… about _mm_.. a few hours if I remember right.”

Holly gasped, and with a serious only akin to youth, she tugged at his shirt. Ezra knelt down to accommodate her and hugged her tightly as she looped her arms around his neck. “ _Mm…_!” He heard her hum, squeezing him for emphasis and he’d almost laughed if to cover the soft sigh parting his lips.

It might have been a peculiar scene to anyone else, but Ezra couldn’t be happier. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head then buried his nose in her hair.

[ _I love you, little flower._ ]

Holly shuffled backward and squeezed his shoulders sweetly, smiling up at him.

[ _I love you too._ ]

Pride swelled and Ezra felt giddy. She’d been struggling to learn his language, steadily grasping a few of the complexities and how to invert her sounds. He hugged her one last time, listening to her giggles as he nuzzled the top of her head then let her go.

“Alright, off you go now. Wash up, get ready, and you can help me with prep tomorrow.”

Determined and assured, Holly grinned and nodded firmly. “Okay!”

She shuffled out of his embrace and bolted across the floors in socked feet, taking the path to the bathroom instead, and Ezra looked after her until the door swung shut and took her from his sight. The lobby was peaceful - quiet, and almost _too_ still without the warmth of her presence - but silent enough for him to gather his thoughts.

“I’m a dad now…” Ezra murmured to himself, running his fingers through his own mane then dropping his hands to his sides as he stewed in the thought. Then, he shook his head and muttered, “When was I not?”, laughing to his own joke.


End file.
